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Thursday, 30 April 2015

In the week I spent in the garden the Skylark was singing away merrily and the usual suspects like the Sparrows and Starlings were busy fattening themselves up for the coming breeding season on the food on the bird table. I saw a Great Skua (known locally as Bonxies) so they may be plentiful again this year. The Greenfinches are more plentiful this year than they were last year too. It's strange how some years there are many Greenfinches in the garden and some there are few. This is obviously going to be a 'many' year and they are possibly outnumbering the Sparrows at the moment. In my experience, however, they have fewer clutches than the Sparrows are outnumbered by the end of the breeding season.

Plenty of Robins this year

Not the best Goldfinch picture but the best this spring so far

This is not a bird but a cat trying to catch a pigeon. They taunt it.

A Wheatear showing its wonderful telltale flash. Shame about the fence.

Not a particularly common bird in the garden the Blackbird appreciated the results of the grass being scarified

As sis this selection: an unusual sight on the grass in my garden

Wheatear

The Starlings are noisy and quarrelsome and the bully-boys of the bird table but beautiful nevertheless

Saturday, 25 April 2015

On 25 April 2012 when I was in New Zealand I wrote the following post. This year is that 100th year of the Gallipoli landings. I feel as sad today as I did when I wrote that post. To those who died we of my generation in Britain who have never been conscripted to go to war owe a massive debt of gratitude. A debt that so many will gradually forget.

Today is Anzac Day in New Zealand. I have blogged about it previously in 2008 and 2009. Pauline wrote a poignant post today which shows things from an Australian New Zealander's viewpoint. Remembrance Day on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month is not Poppy Day in New Zealand. Today is.

Martin was up at 5.15 to go to the Dawn Parade in Napier. More and more people go each year.

I find that quite surprising given the fact that the day it commemorates - the day when Anzacs (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) landed in Gallipolli and the Gallipolli Campaign commenced - is almost 100 years ago.

Someone remarked to me today that she didn't need a 'Day' to remember those who had died in the events and horrors of war. That made me think. I don't think of either Anzac Day nor Remembrance Day as being a commemoration of a particular day nor a particular war. To me all war is abhorrent.

I've blogged before on the subject of war and the 100 million or so people who lost their lives in wars during the last century.

If Anzac Day means that the horrors of war are brought to the forefront of our minds then I think that is a Good Thing. If it means that we concentrate on the glorification of the heroics of war then I have severe reservations.

To me all war is anathema and, on balance, I think that the more we remember that then the less likely we are to end up in another war. I would be much more comfortable, however, if the evidence of the past backed up that feeling and that hope.

SO NEAR

We may be apart but when I look at the sky and remember that we are standing on the same earth, looking at the same moon, somehow you don't seem so far away after all.

LIFE

Life isn't about dawdling to the grave, arriving safely in an attractive, wrinkle-free body but rather an adventure that ends skidding in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, totally worn out, screaming "Yee-ha. What a ride!!"

Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to dance in the rain. (With thanks to shabby girl ofA Travelling Fish)

But what are plans other than more restrictions? (With thanks to Pauline)

Feeling young is fabulous but growing old is a blessing!!!(A comment on this blog by Jaz who used to writeTreacy Travels.)

The trick to pushing 70, GB, is to push back -- hard!!!(A comment by Carol aka Canadian Chickadee who comments but does not blog)

I am he who I am

Having lived the majority of my life in the Hebrides where my heart is, I feel I can now call myself a Hebridean. For nine years I lived half my life in New Zealand: a country I love. It was an honour being a part time Kiwi.

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